[CONTENT TEMPLATE HERE]
Chapter 835:
Cole stared at the dead phone, the veins on the back of his hand standing out like cables. Alycia. It was her again. After he had chosen to spare her, she had dared to go after June. Every trace of pity he had ever held for Alycia Beasley evaporated in that instant.
He issued two orders in rapid succession. First: “Initiate the Clearance Protocol. Target: Alycia Beasley. Wherever she is in the world, make her disappear.” Second: “Tell everyone to switch to heavy gear. We’re going to 15 Central Park West p>
Cole stepped out into the snow. He took a loaded Glock from his bodyguard and holstered it at his waist. Tonight, he would personally dismantle Crawford’s palace brick by brick.
The security alarm shrieked through Crawford’s penthouse. The monitors showed Cole and a dozen armed men ascending in the private elevator. “Sir, they have heavy breaching tools — we can’t hold them!” Rhodes reported, his voice strained.
Crawford was unnervingly calm. He adjusted his silk robe, took a sip of whiskey, and said, “Let them in. I’m curious to see how the Compton family’s mad dog plans to bite p>
The reinforced alloy door exploded off its hinges with a deafening crack. Cole Compton stepped through the smoke and debris first. He wore a black turtleneck beneath a tactical vest, the gun at his hip in plain view. His eyes swept the living room like a radar sweep, locked on the man sitting at leisure on the sofa, then shot past him to the closed bedroom door. He knew June was in there.
“Give her to me,” Cole said. No warmth. No negotiation.
Crawford swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “Cole, this is breaking and entering. I could have my lawyers sue you into bankruptcy — oh, my apologies. You’re already bankrupt p>
The insult landed like fuel on a flame. Cole’s men raised their weapons. Crawford’s security team mirrored them instantly, the room locking into a tense standoff.
Cole raised a hand, halting his men. He walked forward until only an expensive coffee table stood between him and Crawford. “This is your last chance,” he said quietly. “I’d rather not dirty your carpet p>
Crawford rose. He was slightly taller, and he used the height deliberately. “You’re in no position to make demands. You couldn’t even protect your own woman — you let her get kidnapped on a snowy night. It was I who saved her p>
𝗠os𝘵 r𝗲а𝘥 𝗍his 𝗐𝖾e𝘬 𝗈𝗇
The words found their mark with surgical precision. The color drained from Cole’s face.
Crawford pressed on. “When she was in my arms, she was calling my name. She would rather trust a man she’s known for less than half a year than look at you again. Aren’t you curious why?” It was a lie, of course — June had been unconscious throughout. But it was the perfect provocation.
Cole’s restraint collapsed. He upended the coffee table with a single violent motion, sending glass and ornaments across the floor. His hand moved to the Glock at his hip.
Crawford’s eyes went feral. His own hand shot toward a pistol tucked beneath a sofa cushion. The room teetered on the edge of something irreversible.
At that precise moment, the bedroom door clicked open.